


Papercut

by SweetIllusions



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Drunkenness, Family Issues, Grief/Mourning, I Tried, I don't know, I have no self control, I just started to write, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Tagging, Letters, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Physical Abuse, Self-Doubt, Vomiting, and here we are, sorry world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:46:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28777017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetIllusions/pseuds/SweetIllusions
Summary: Lazily stretching himself he walked towards the living room, to check if there was a big mess."Not that bad…" he thought, seeing the pile of shoes by the door and the pile of coats on the couch.Then he eyed the letter resting on the coffee table, and all the sleepiness he still had in him disappeared. He had to start the day of his birthday with some words from his mother.Excitedly, he jumped to his favorite spot on the couch, grabbed the coat on top of the pile for warmth, smiling fondly when he realized that was Brian’s coat, throwing it over his shoulders and opening the envelope to start reading his mother’s words...
Relationships: Brian May & Roger Taylor, John Deacon/Freddie Mercury
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	Papercut

**Author's Note:**

> "When will you update Forever or Roger's Diary?" 
> 
> Well... Who knows?? 
> 
> In the meantime, here's something that started as a nightmare, that became the theme for a therapy session, that became a lot of overthinking for weeks and now it's a fic... (and will probably be the theme for a few more therapy sessions...)
> 
> Because yeah, projective writing is a thing...
> 
> I know it's long, too damn long for a one-shot, but I didn't want to make it as a continued work, so be patient and be happy that once it's finished, it's finished.
> 
> I had to get this out of the way before getting the other things done, so, here it is!
> 
> All the love to the sweetie @GreatFuckingMaracas (inthequeerof39 on tumblr) for beta-ing this patiently!! 
> 
> Enjoy, and come give me a hug on the comment session!

Freddie arrived from the stall bearing groceries and a handful of mail. He left the mail at the coffee table in the room, they’d have to take a look at the bills later, then he marched to the kitchen, put the groceries on the fridge and shelves. It wasn’t much, they couldn’t afford much, and Brian had bought bread and milk only a couple of days earlier. 

He could hear the running shower and some hummings coming from the bathroom. 

“Roggie, love. I’ll put the kettle on, bought you some tea cakes, are you hungry?” he asked. _Silly question, he’s always hungry…_ Freddie added to himself, smiling. 

“Oh, you’re home early, Fred. I’ll be out soon. I’m starving…” Said the raspy voice locked in the bathroom. A couple of minutes more and the shower was off. _I hope he left me enough hot water…_ Freddie observed, reminding himself of the cold shower he had to take the previous day because the youngsters left him with no hot water. 

Roger left the bathroom with only a towel around his waist, Freddie could see from the kitchen. 

“Your hair is dripping all over the floor, again!” He scolded. 

“Sorry, mom…” Roger responded, making a faster walk to his room. 

**

“Where are the cakes??” Roger said, clapping his hands in a demanding manner.

“Table. I’m just done with the tea, here is yours…” Freddie offered a steaming mug of tea to the blond man. 

“Thank you. How was the stall today??” Roger asked, using an old shirt to dry his hair with one hand and holding his tea carefully with the other. 

“Oh, dreadful… A bunch of people came in only for that pair of boots we sold yesterday, can you believe that?” Freddie complained, enjoying the sweetness of the small cake. 

“And to think that hideous thing was on sale for months!” Roger observed.

“What about Brian and Deacy? Where are they?” 

“Brian was called for a last-minute summer class, it seems like the main teacher got sick... And Deacy said he had to buy new cables for his amp, the poor thing is getting old. They might be here any minute though.” Roger explained, trying to fit half of the cake in his mouth. “This is really good” 

_“Manners, darling!”_ Freddie scolded the playful younger man. “Are you excited about tonight? Crystal has been talking about this party for ages…”

“Have to be! I’ll get into my birthday partying, it must be a good start for twenty-five!” Roger grinned, blue eyes shining with excitement.

“Got some letters??” Roger said, finishing his tea on the way to the living room. 

“Mostly bills, they are piling up…” Freddie replied. “Oh, but I think I saw your name on one of them, news from home, maybe…” 

Roger smiled wildly, he always loved to get news from his family, especially from Clare, his younger sister and favorite human being in the whole world, so he jumped to his usual place on the couch and grabbed the bunch of envelopes from the coffee table, playfully discarding those that didn’t matter for him. 

What he found was a letter with his mom’s name on it, and he smiled when he saw the beautiful handwriting even before he opened it, it felt good that his mother remembered to make his birthday even more special. 

“Should I wait to read this tomorrow??” He said. “It’s from my mom…” The blond man teased. 

“Tomorrow you’ll be hangovering like a bitch, perfect time to get some motherly love…”

“Good, I don’t want to get all emo, I might get lucky tonight…”

“Again??” John entered the flat, making the other two jump. “You get lucky at least twice a week, isn’t that enough??” he questioned. 

“Damn Deacy, stop walking in like that, my soul almost left my body…” Roger scolded. 

Freddie, on the other hand, couldn’t stop laughing, coming from the kitchen with a hand on his belly.

“He’s right, darling, both of you are. YOU!” He said, pointing to John. “‘Cause, you always walk in like a spy, a serial killer, always so subtle.” He continued. “And you! ‘Cause when you’re not killing poor lanky Brian in the bedroom, you’re going out somewhere charming half of London and a good chunk of Manchester…”

“What’s wrong with that?” Roger laughed. “The only one that should care is Bri, and he seems to love my sluttiness… Oh, and here he is to prove that.” He said, listening to Brian get into the flat.

“Talking about me again?” Brian asked, leaving his coat on the hanger behind the door. 

“Just tell them you love me no matter what!” Roger asked, smiling big at his lover. 

“I do, I love my blondie no matter what!” He said, leaning in Roger’s direction for a kiss. “Are you all ready? We have to be at Crystal’s at 9pm. 

“I just need to change real quick,” John said.

“I need a shower, the day at the stall made me feel disgusting rutting there with all the unwanted clothes,” Freddie said. “It’s not going to take much I promise…”

“My clothes are planned, I just need to change…” Roger announced, proud of the fact that he’d be the first to get ready for the first time in ages. 

“Do I have time to do my hair? You know, straightening it?” Brian asked, feeling insecure after hearing a couple of jokes from the students about his looks.

“NO!” All three men said in unison. 

“You look perfect, I love the curls, they are my favorite thing on this planet!” Roger said, playing with the back of Brian’s hair.

“Thought it was his big cock…” Freddie teased. 

“Oh, and _that_!” Roger replied with a flirty smile, making Brian’s face burn in embarrassment. 

**

About an hour later, nearing 9 pm already, all of them were ready, leaving the flat almost on time. 

Roger had a smile he couldn’t erase for anything in this world, he was excited about his birthday, it was his first one he would be free, not playing, working or studying, a whole day to enjoy the day tangled to Brian’s arms, the only place he’d want to be. 

He thought about the letter from his mother, that was left forgotten on the table, but he knew his mother, it was nothing urgent.

** 

Decided to make the best out of his last hours at the young age of twenty-four, Roger grabbed his boyfriend’s hand and together they drank and danced all night at the cramped space at Crystal’s flat. 

“I love you, I love you, I fucking love you!” Roger repeats in Brian’s ears as the slightly older man that had his arms around his waist.

“I love you too, Roger. Happy birthday, love!” Brian said. 

No, it wasn’t Roger’s birthday yet, but if things kept going that way, Roger would be completely hammered by midnight, and that was his plan. 

Roger was happy, that was all that mattered. Since leaving college, the drummer felt like he could be himself completely, pursuing the old rockstar dream that he had since he was a boy. Things were good, they felt like they were finally on a good place in life, as a band they had started to make a living out of their concerts, Roger felt like he belonged somewhere, and right now it was right there in Brian’s arms, enjoying some loud music and a few cheap drinks, surrounded by people. 

A few women complimented Roger with pecks when they passed by him and Brian, some were more forward and complimented him with kisses, some of them gave Brian a few kisses too so he wouldn’t feel left out. Brian pretended to be jealous, but inside he understood he was dating a man that was desired by many, and he only considered himself lucky for being the one that could take Roger home and have all of him all the ways he desired. 

**

When the clock marked midnight all of them sang happy birthday to Roger, or at least to what was left of him.

“Come here, you bloody disaster!” Crystal pulled him to a hug. They’ve been friends since Roger was on school, and the party was also their tenth year friendship anniversary. 

“Happy anniversary, Crys! I love you!” Roger clumsily jumped onto his friend’s arms, making both of them fall on the floor, what made all their friends laugh. 

“Brian, I think he’s had enough…” Freddie adverted, worried with the state of his friend. 

“Let him enjoy the night, I’m taking care of him.” Brian said, lifting Roger up, also intoxicated, but in a better state than his man. And indeed he was taking care of his lover the best way he could. He spent the night by his side all the time, showering with love and forcing Roger to take a few glasses of water between drinks, but obviously that didn’t work well, the drinks were always larger than the glasses of water Roger ingested. “I’ll take care of you, love…” He promised, kissing his boyfriend softly as a now languid Roger dissolved in his arms, and there they stayed, slow dancing to no song in particular, Roger’s blurred vision trying to focus on Brian’s lips, while the other man fell in love one more time for the blond’s genuine smile.

**

“We should go home…” John said, thinking about how tired they’d be the next day.

“No… ‘ts too early” Roger slurred with his eyes closed, not being able to stand by himself anymore, “I still wan to dance…” 

“I’ll dance with you, babe, come here…” Holding Roger firmly and walking him out of the room carefully. “Thank you, Crystal! I’m sure this was the best party he’s ever had!” Brian said on Roger's behalf, with the face hidden on the crook of Brian’s neck, Roger only nodded this time. 

They left, with Brian and a half sleepy half horny Roger in the back seat of the van. 

“Love, is not time for that, come on….” Brian said, taking Roger’s hand off his body for the fifth time, every time getting more and more aroused by the gesture.

“You don’t want me…” Roger cried, taking a little distance from him on the car seat, clumsily wiggling with the bumps of the vehicle. 

“Of course I want you, babe.” Brian said, holding Roger back closer. “I just don’t want John and Freddie close when we’re having, sex…” he carefully explained into his lover’s ears, making the drummer giggle like a naughty school child.

** 

When they arrived home and were in the safety of their flat, John and Freddie quickly made their way into their room, eager to share the love and affection their secret relationship had to have. While Roger and Brian stumbled across the place making their way to their room between kisses, Brian carefully following the rule of never having sex with the blond when the younger man is too intoxicated, he needed Roger to be fully conscious and satisfied. Brian’s mission was to take care of the blond and put him to sleep, that was all, but the sloppy kisses were so good and playful, he allowed them to happen.

On the corridor, Brian tried to lead a stubborn Roger to the bathroom. First because he needed to pee as well, second because taking Roger out of the bed to go to the bathroom would be impossible once he got to their bed, so there they were.

“Stay on the door for a minute, love… I just need to take a leak first, then it’s your time…” he asked, making sure Roger was safe leaning by the door. After taking care of himself as fast as he could, it was time to help Roger. He held the blond steady by the waist in front of the toilet seat and waited until Roger was done and empty just like him, and then he sat the blond so he could help him brush his teeth. It was important for Roger to keep his oral hygiene even when it turned into a hard task. 

When the blond was cleaned and so was himself, Brian took him to their bedroom, where he helped Roger get rid of his tight clothes, Roger tossed and turned until Brian was convinced that he could sleep without pajamas for one night, Brian just had to keep him closer and warm. 

They laid on the bed, Brian covered them both with the warmest blanket and then spooned the younger man, feeling him fall asleep fast in his arms.

**

The next morning none of the habitants of the flat cared about getting out of bed early, Brian only woke up when he saw that the blond had kicked the blanket out of the bed, but he picked it up, covered himself and Roger’s legs and went back to sleep.

Then it was the blond’s time to wake up, feeling his entire body ache from the current dehydration and strong headache. He carefully slipped out of bed to take a glass of water in the kitchen, and with a bit of luck find an aspirin in the medicine box they kept there. 

After he silently walked out of the room, he made his way to the bathroom and after that he made his way to the kitchen, being careful with each move to not wake up his flatmates. 

Then he found a box with enough aspirin to all of them, in case everyone had the same killer hangover. He swallowed the pill with a little bit of water and left the cup he used in the sink, reminding himself that today is his birthday, therefore he was excused from all the cleaning activities, according to their rules. 

Lazily stretching himself he walked towards the living room, to check if there was a big mess. 

_Not that bad…_ he thought, seeing the pile of shoes by the door and the pile of coats on the couch. 

Then he eyed the letter resting on the coffee table, and all the sleepiness he still had in him disappeared. He had to start the day of his birthday with some words from his mother. 

Excitedly, he jumped to his favorite spot on the couch, grabbed the coat on top of the pile for warmth, smiling fondly when he realized that was Brian’s coat, throwing it over his shoulders and opening the envelope to start reading his mother’s words.

“ _Roger, I hope this letter finds you well, not because you deserve it, but because I believe no matter how hurt she is, a mother should never wish bad things to her son, even when he made things so hard for her._

_I’m here to tell you that your prayers were answered, your father passed away last night from a sudden heart attack. A healthy working man, died way too soon._

_And he died without forgiveness from his only son, not that you really care about it, now it’s just a detail that will remain unfixed._

_Clare and I, we’re alone now, to take care of everything while my son lives his rock ‘n roll dream far away from us… Not that it would make much difference, you decided to soften up instead of becoming a good working man, only manning up when it’s time to hit the drums. Or to date men and women that never cared about you like I did, like we did, me and your father._

_My husband died, oh lord. Yeah, he was a hard pillow to swallow, tough, brutal sometimes, but he cared about you and Clare, he never allowed the table to go without food or any of you to walk around with bad clothes, he cared about your education, he did all a father had to, wasn’t that enough?_

_Anyways, it’s not time for discussions. I just wanted to let you know what happened._

_I’m sending you some money, he left us in a good financial condition, the poor soul worked hard…_

_This is for the case that rock business and the stall are still not paying the bills, but in the hope someday things will go right... Your old ma’ won’t last forever, and your working friends can’t keep supporting you all the time..._

_I pray one day you see your father tried his very best, he deserved forgiveness, let him Rest In Peace..._

_Winnifred Taylor.”_

Shocked and utterly broken by the words of his mother, Roger felt his heart ache. Where he thought he would be feeling relieved that his abuser passed away, he could only feel an agonizing, paralyzing guilt for being useless to his family in a moment like this. 

The date said it happened weeks ago, his mother probably didn’t want him around if she decided to send a letter. 

She blamed him. He was the cause of his father’s death. Or at least that’s how he felt. 

Suddenly he couldn’t bare the tiredness of his body, his racing mind making him feel heavy as silent tears, not for his father, but for the disappointment he meant for his mother, hit him like a wave of bricks.

Part of him knew his mom was hurt, that he’d never take a grieving woman’s word to heart, but that part was silenced by the part that agreed with her, that believed he was indeed a useless man who couldn’t make a decent living out of his silly teenage dream. 

And that part dragged him down slowly and silently, allowing hot tears to burn his soul, Roger covered his mouth with one hand to not make any noise and wake his bandmates. 

Bandmates that were too good for him, that had combined so much talent, Roger was probably the reason why Queen still didn’t have a recording contract. 

People that thought about him more than his selfish self thought about them, like Freddie using his extra coins to buy him fresh cakes, or Brian protecting him from his own stupidity and drunkenness, or John that fixes his van for free time after time. What does he offer them?? Fresh beats, useless fresh beats that would never be part of big hits on the radio. 

He had to become less of a burden to these people.

_I promise things will change…_ was the last thing to cross his mind before he drifted back to sleep, letting the letter fall, hiding itself under the couch where it wouldn’t hurt him anymore. 

** 

It was half past noon when Brian woke up, feeling the coldness from Roger’s absence in the bed. That was weird, Roger would always be the last to leave the bed, always waiting for warm kisses before he could start his day, specially on his special day, a day where everyone in the flat would be under his command. 

Brian slipped out of bed, needing the bathroom and the warmth of his boyfriend. He used the bathroom and freshened up a little, when he crossed the line to the living room his heart melted at the sight of a frail boy with pouty lips and hair partially covering his face. He got close to Roger, careful not to scare him, and noticed the tear stains on his face. It was unusual, and that worried him, but he didn’t want to make Roger think he was not allowed to feel things, so he let it slide instead of immediately questioning him. 

“Rog. Roggie...” he called softly, kissing the tip of the blond’s nose. “Let’s go back to bed, shall we?” He whispered. 

Roger only moved slightly, stretching the legs, but still not taking up much space. It was weird, usually, the drummer would be stretching like a big cat, taking all the space he needed to crack up his bones from head to toes. 

“Good morning, birthday boy…” Brian said, softly giving Roger a sweet kiss. At first, automatically Roger retributed the kiss, mending into Brian’s warmth, then he tensed up almost completely, what didn’t escape Brian’s attentiveness. “Did something happen?” 

“No, I’m good… Need a shower, that’s all…” Roger gave Brian a kiss on the cheek and left to their bedroom, listening to Brian’s footsteps right behind him.

“Are you sure, babe??” Brian asked again.

“Yeah, I have a hangover, but it’s not really bad, considering how much I drank last night… All is good.” Roger said, gathering his shower things and a pair of pajama bottoms and sprinting to the bathroom, 

“While you’re in the shower I’ll get you your birthday breakfast…” Brian announced, stopping at Freddie’s and John’s door. “I’m gonna make pancakes, if anyone wants some, find me in the kitchen in 20 minutes.” He said to the other two, only knocking at the door once. 

** 

Inside the bathroom, Roger made sure to turn the electric shower off before he undressed, to cut his expenses, the lower he’d spend the happier people would be with him. This way his friends would always have hot water. He never liked cold showers, they were one of the many punishments he endured as a child, but he learned in college that it was good for the skin, so it wasn’t that bad, he just had to get used to it. 

It was a fast thing, also not to spend too much water, he just had to clean up, no time for his usual me-time jerking off in the shower, good thing that the cold water would never allow him to get hard anyway. 

When he was finished he dried and wrapped his hair on a shirt he brought to not leave the bathroom with his wet hair dripping everywhere, turned the shower back on, and wore his clothes right there, to save time, leaving the bedroom free for Brian. Then he left the bathroom as clean as possible, then left, going back to the bedroom, just to fix the bed and keep the things organized. 

“Roger, Brian is calling for breakfast!” John said, stopped at the doorway. 

“Let’s go…” he said,giving a last glance to the room, to see if it was enough. 

When they got to the kitchen Brian had 4 plates filled with pancakes for all of them, one with strawberry jam and whipped cream on the top of Roger’s pancakes. 

“You really didn’t have to, Bri… Thank you!” Roger said, going to his place at Brian’s side and giving him a sweet, but short kiss. 

“It’s your day, I’ll do whatever you want…” Brian said, going on for a longer kiss. “Just like you did for me last week…” 

“Today, and only today, the flat is yours, my darling. I’ll do your chores and mine, if that makes you happy.” Freddie said, blowing Roger a kiss from his side of the table. 

“In fact, I don’t need that, Fred. Thanks, anyway… Doing some work might distract me from this headache from hell…” he lied, in fact, he barely could feel the symptoms of the hangover anymore, the cold shower helped him. 

“Who are you and what did you do to my Roggie?” Freddie jokes. 

“A man can change…” He joked back, in fact, liking the seriousness of his tone, people would see the changes, he’d make up to them for being so much of a burden all the time. 

Deacon saw the change on his looks, Roger Taylor, the almighty lord of all greatness, now kept his voice low and his head down, munching on his pancakes with the resignation of a prisoner at his last meal. 

John kept observing, to see if he could pinpoint what happened, but decided to keep things to himself. 

Freddie also thought Roger’s behavior was kind of odd, at other times he'd celebrated the fact that someone was doing his chores in his place. 

And Brian only wanted to make Roger feel safe and comfortable, until he could make the younger man open up about what was troubling him so much.

** 

Roger spent the rest of the afternoon in the service area, doing his and Brian’s laundry, he wanted to feel useful, but instead it was just leaving him empty and exhausted. 

The moment he got back home he found the flat in complete silence. Roger thought it would be his cue to get some sleep, but Brian was in the kitchen, he was just so focused on his task that he wasn’t even breathing. 

As soon as Brian heard Roger coming into the flat he called him.

“Love?? Can you come here, please?” 

“Just a sec, I need to leave these in the bedroom.” Roger replied, getting the basket of clean clothes and taking it to the corner of their room. “I’m here!” He announced, arriving at the kitchen. “Where are John and Freddie?” 

“I kicked them out.” Brian replied. “It’s been a while since we had the flat for ourselves, it’s your birthday, and this is my gift to you!”

Roger took some time to understand what was happening, paying attention to the details for the first time. 

Brian had picked out some flowers and they were on an improvised vase on the table, the smell of something roasting on the oven told him Brian had prepared his mother’s famous shepherd pie, there were candles on the kitchen and in the living room, prepared to be lit for their romantic dinner. 

Suddenly, Roger’s stomach turned with guilt. His lover was doing all of these for him, and he didn’t make anything special for Brian the previous week. He wanted to cry, but he didn’t want to be seen crying. So he just shook off the feeling and smiled.

“What have I done to deserve, you, Brian Harold May?” He said, rasping up the tone to avoid the tears.

“You give me life. Every single day, you make me feel alive. Isn’t that enough?” Brian replied, getting closer to his boyfriend and pulling him to a passionate kiss, holding him tight into his arms, like a kid with a beloved plushie. Roger tried to avoid the next kiss, feeling nauseated with himself, but Brian acted faster, and kissed him like that was their last day on Earth.

“I feel disgusting… I should take a shower…” Roger murmured, voice almost fading with the noises of the song on the radio. 

“You are perfect. We’re both comfortable and I wouldn’t trade that for nothing in this world!” Brian said, kissing him one more time before turning his attention to the pies on the oven. “Besides, they are almost done, we can shower together after dinner…” He suggested.

Roger sat on the table and waited for Brian to finish bringing out the food. The _menu,_ as Brian playfully said using a fake pompous voice, had shepherd fish pie, the only meat Brian could eat, and a simple tomato, lettuce and pepper salad. Everything was so carefully prepared, so full of love and affection for Roger, it was unbelievable that he, a simple mediocre bloke, had found such a caring and loving man just for him. 

“Are you sure I deserve all this?” He asked, looking at his lover, the effort put on making Roger feel loved was enormous, and he felt both grateful and ashamed.

Yeah, ashamed. It was irrational, and he knew that, but he couldn’t stop his mother’s words and their deep meaning from echoing inside his mind. 

_Your working friends can’t keep supporting you all the time. You can’t be a burden to everyone all the time. If you're feeling sad and broken, Brian shouldn’t spend his money and the provisions of the entire flat just to cheer you up for one night._

Again, he waved those thoughts away, promising the next day they wouldn’t have one single expense with him. He’d spend the day on the stall, working hard to earn his money.

“You deserve Italy, the entire country, but I can’t give it to you, so I offer you my heart, a recipe from my childhood and a cheap bottle of wine…” Brian declares, taking Roger’s hand and kissing each one of the drummer’s calloused knuckles. 

** 

The couple had their meal under the candlelights and dried half the bottle of wine, Roger relaxing more and more with time, almost forgetting about the letter that disappeared somewhere around the house.

Then they went to the living room, with Roger starting a burning hot make out session right there on the couch. He wanted to live the moment, forget his sorrows, get lost in the feeling of Brian’s body heat.

** 

A shower after sex was always a must between the two lovers, but not all ecstasy in his body made Brian ignore the fact that Roger insisted that they should have a cold shower, claiming it was good for the skin and that it was more relaxing. He obeyed, because he’d do anything for Roger, even take a cold shower after midnight. But then, when they were ready to bed, he needed answers.

“Love, can I ask you a question?” 

Both men had matching pjs, a present from Brian’s mother. Roger laid facing the wall, and Brian spooning him, feeling the sweet scent of strawberry shampoo.

“I’m tired, can we talk tomorrow?” Roger cried, faking a sleepy voice when in fact he’d still take hours to fall asleep. 

“No love, we can’t wait any longer. Something is wrong, you’ve been acting up all day, and I’m just worried about you…” Brian kissed his neck, feeling every move as the blond instantly got his guards down. “Do you trust me?” He finally asked, not the main question, but a strong start. 

Roger broke down into tears, sobbing into Brian’s arms, he turned around to face Brian for a hot minute, then tangled himself in the man’s body, hiding away there. But he said nothing, assuming his boyfriend already knew his answer was a big yes. He wouldn’t know how to explain anything right now, he was angry and sad and broken, all of these together, and not even Brian’s love could fix him at the moment. 

Brian got the hint, he wouldn’t force Roger to talk, but seeing him crying like that broke his heart and made him sure that what was happening to the blond was twice more serious than anything he had in mind… Brian just held him closer, until their bodies formed one, holding Roger’s hand and not letting go for a single second until he heard the man’s soft snores filling the air and killing his worries for the night. 

**

The next morning, again Brian woke up alone in bed, he jumped out of bed worried with Roger. He didn’t want to let the drummer go through whatever he was going through alone, even if it seemed like Brian was invading his space. 

He took a deep relieved breath when he saw the blond was in the living room, Roger was all dressed up and ready to leave the flat. 

“Where are you going? It’s eh… seven-thirty.” He said, glancing at the clock on the wall.

“Today is my day at the stall and I want to make it a double, give Freddie a break.”

“Oh, I see…. Have you had your breakfast yet?? I can prepare you something real quick…” Brian offered.

“Already ate, thank you love… I really got to go…” He lied, giving Brian one peck, just to feel the lips, and then he walked out of the flat.

_Not gonna take the van, gotta save petrol._ He thought. _Leave it to them, I can walk…_

Brian saw the key to the van at the table and ran to the window so he could call Roger, but then he saw the young man walking out, not even looking at the van, making his way out of the windy streets. _Will he walk 6 blocks to the stall? What the hell…_

Brian turned around, looking inside the apartment again, seeing Freddie and John leaving their bedroom. 

“Mates, can we talk for a minute??”

“Is it about Roger, darling?? Blondie has been acting up a little since yesterday, did something happen??” Freddie asked. 

“It’s what I was going to ask you, actually. One day he was all happy waiting for his birthday, and when it came, he treated it like it was nothing special…” Brian looked worried, confused. 

“Didn’t he get a letter from his mom? Freddie had told me that… Maybe that brought some bad news..” John said, pulling Freddie’s hand on the way to the kitchen. “Tea or coffee? He asked his friends. 

“Coffee, darling. If we’re going to deal with an emotional unstable Roger, we better have the energy.” Freddie affirmed. 

“He lied to me.” Brian whispered, mostly for himself to hear, when he saw the kitchen intact, no sign that Roger had eaten something before he left. “Roger said he had eaten something before leaving for the stall, but it’s clear he didn’t. The kitchen is just how I left it yesterday, after our dinner. Oh, and there’s pie in the fridge, if you fancy.”

“I can take him something later, my dear.” Freddie offered, seeing the worried expression on his friend’s forehead. 

“Thanks, Fred.”

**

After the long walk, Roger arrived at the stall. He passed a few places that were already open, greeting the few people that worked near him. 

Their stall was impeccably organized, Freddie had left everything done and cleaned, he just had to chant the clients in, which was the easy part. He turned on the lights, freshened the air with some perfume Freddie used and waited, and waited. Usually, on Saturdays the movement was bigger, but it seemed like that would be different.

As the morning went by he managed to chant a few clients in, making them buy a few accessories, nothing pricey, but also, nothing bad. 

A man came looking for a winter colt, but they had nothing that would fit him well, and Roger didn’t feel like lying to the bloke saying that he looked great on that green-ish thing that they had available. 

He made some notes after the man left, they had to buy new stuff to sell, the last time they did that was months ago, they were starting to run out of material. 

Then he sat down behind the balcony, feeling weak and hungry, but he still didn’t have enough money, so he decided to keep working. 

In fact, he had more than enough already for a coffee and a bagel on the shop across the street, but he didn’t want to spend that money on him, if the goal was to help with the flat expenses. 

Well, he also had the money he got from his mom, he got the envelope from under the couch this morning, before Brian or anyone else found it, but the cursed thing burned in his pocket so bad he didn’t dare to open the envelope again since the first time. Later he’d decide what to do with that. He could slip the money inside Brian’s things, his boyfriend was always losing money anyways.

**

“Hey darling!” Freddie said, getting inside the stall, making a beeline among the mannequins until he was close to the balcony. 

“Fuck! Freddie, don’t scare me like that you fucker!” Roger said, almost slipping on the big fabric he was folding. 

“Ungrateful bitch! I come to feed you, blondie! Here, coffee with extra cream and bagels, from across the street.”

“Thanks, Freddie, but you didn’t have to. I already ate…”

“Liar!! Brian said you didn’t step inside the kitchen today, and he’s good on observing such things.” Freddie took the food out of the paper bag and placed it in front of Roger. “And Rob told me he hasn't seen your pretty face today yet. Are you on a diet or what?”

“Just not hungry, that’s all.” Roger timidly replied, ashamed for getting caught lying to his friend, and even more because he lied to Brian, and his boyfriend knew that.

“Pale like this, I will not let you starve, darling, it’s buttered already. And don’t let the coffee get cold, I know how much you hate cold coffee.” 

Hesitantly, Roger took a bite of the bagel, decided to slip some money into Freddie’s drawer, to pay him for this. 

“Thanks, Freddie. But you really didn’t have to…” He insisted, finishing his late breakfast. 

“It’s no problem, Roggie, I was going to come here anyway, I’m gonna ask a friend to make some outfits from that silky fabric we have, shirts, shorts, silk is trendy…”

“Oh, that’s a good idea, need me to do anything?” 

“Year, I’ll need you to come with me tomorrow or any other day to give her the fabric, you know, on the van.” Freddie mentioned the car to open space to talk about that morning. “You came here walking today, right? Is the van broken? Yesterday when we used it Deacy said it was in perfect condition…”

“Yeah, it’s perfect. Deacy made a great job on it last time. I just felt like walking…” Roger replied, avoiding eye-contact, taking the trash out of the way. 

“Okay, I hope it was good for you, honey…” Freddie said, feeling a building tension grow in the air, it happens every time the blond felt threatened. “I should go, don’t forget to lock the deposit before you leave. Monday is my turn… Be home by 6 or Brian will come to get you.”

“Don’t worry, mom, I will close at 5 today…”

Freddie waved him goodbye and helped a couple of clients in, leaving them for Roger to attend. 

After Freddie left Roger’s day got more productive. The women that worked week-days and the teens showed up to check on what they have. Some of their old customers arrived, people that had supported them since the very first day working on Kensington.

By the end of the day Roger had a good amount of money on him, he was going to give it all to Deacy, the youngster was responsible for the bills on the flat, the only one that remembered all the due dates and things like that. 

He decided to close after a woman left the stall with three of the most beautiful skirts they had left.

He closed the cash register, taking out the money, putting it inside his pockets, it was enough for the day, he was tired and the walk home would be exhaustive.

**

He arrived home just before six, passing the conversation that was happening in the kitchen and going straight to his bedroom. As soon as Brian realized Roger was home, he walked to the bedroom, meeting the blond man there.

“How was your day at the stall?” he asked. Roger had his back turned to him, he was still trying to get rid of his heavy coat. When he was done, bare chested, he turned to Brian.

“Hey love…” He said. “Yeah, the day was not bad, little bit slow, but good anyways…” Roger sighed. 

“You must be exhausted.” Brian observed the droplets of sweat in his lover’s forehead. 

“A bit, yeah. Nothing a shower can’t fix…”

Brian closed the door behind him and got close to his lover. “I missed you…” Brian leaned for a kiss, it was sweet, tender, Roger gave in to the taller man’s touch, relaxing, his sweaty skin filling with goosebumps, his mind filling with desire as the kisses became longer, stronger, better. 

“I missed you too.” Roger rested his head on Brian’s shoulder, holding him tight. “I love you so much…” he whispered, getting Brian off guard, in a good way. Suddenly, both men had tears in their eyes.

Roger looked up at Brian’s bright hazel eyes, he trusted Brian, that man was his everything, why couldn't he talk to him? Why couldn’t he tell him how awful he was feeling inside?

“I’m sorry…” He said, his voice going just one tone above a whisper, lowering his head.

Brian kissed the top of Roger’s head and lifted his chin, a breath at the sight of his favorite blue eyes filled with tears. 

“Take your time, you don’t need to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with. I’m not going anywhere…” Brian pulled the blond into his arms, and at that moment Roger looked so small, so frail, he looked like a child asking for protection when they get lost, and that was Brian’s mission in life, to love and protect Roger, even from the ghosts that lived inside the drummer's mind. 

Roger was the first to let go, with the excuse that he desperately needed a shower, which was true. Brian left to start working on dinner, while he followed his ritual of gathering his things, took the envelope of his pocket and tucked it inside his drawer inside his and Brian’s wardrobe, together with the money he’d give John later. 

Then he went to the bathroom with his hygiene items and a towel. Inside the bathroom he turned the shower off and took his clothes off. One of the benefits of the cold shower is that it keeps the bad thoughts away, it has to be fast, no one should take a cold shower with that nasty cold weather outside, but it was necessary. 

He dried himself fast, quickly wearing his pajama bottoms and a shirt with long sleeves, wrapping his hair on the towel and cleaning the bathroom, leaving just in time for John to get in, the younger man was waiting at the door of the bathroom and jumped in as soon as Roger opened the door. 

“Sorry mate, I’m in a hurry here…” John said, making Roger stumble out of the bathroom. 

Roger went back to the bedroom just when Brian got in. “”Dinner will be pasta with tomato sauce, ready in twenty.” Brian announced. 

“I’ll be out soon.” Roger said, finishing drying his hair and finding a clean pullover to warm his cold body. 

**

In the kitchen, Freddie was scribbling notes on a new song he was writing, lazily eating a bowl of salad, while John and Brian served themselves. 

“Just in time, love.” Brian says. “Come serve yourself. It’s nothing fancy, but I know you love pasta…” 

“I really do!” Roger said, serving himself a plate of pasta. 

While they ate, Brian and John paying attention to the blond’s behavior and how little he was eating, Freddie told them all their schedule for the next gig in a few days. 

“We need a rehearsal tomorrow at Ellington, and I got us a studio for the next day, just so we can test some of the new stuff, then on Wednesday we need to be at Tricked at seven, is that alright, lovies?” 

“Yeah, fine…” Brian said.

“We can’t afford studio time, Freddie, not now the bills arrived…” Roger said, thinking about how little they’d have left after paying rent, gas and water bills. 

“Don’t worry your pretty face, blondie. The new intern in the studio is a friend from college, he gave us a massive discount, and we can have it all night!” 

“It’s a great deal, I was there to check the place.” John affirmed, trying to sound positive to stop Roger from worrying about whatever.

Roger seemed to brush his worries down the rug, but deep inside he still felt off, this time John could pinpoint the moment he seemed to dissociate. 

Roger finished his meal, he still felt hungry, but he didn’t want to take much of the food just for himself, so he considered that enough for the night. Brian and Freddie were going around ideas to the new song, Roger allowed himself to space out of the conversation, they would only need his input later on in the process anyway. He went for the sink and washed his dishes and the ones Brian had used to make dinner and saved the leftovers on the fridge. 

Out of his bubble of random thoughts he could hear a heated up discussion about the lyrics of the song, something common between Brian and Freddie, but it felt so far away. Usually he would get involved, build up the structure of the song in his mind, defend his ideas or take side with one of them, but he was only the drummer, they would call him if he could help with anything. Roger finished the dishes, leaving only Freddie’s and John’s, ‘cause they were always the last one to finish eating, and then he left for the living room.

He thought about putting some music on, to clean up the atmosphere, but then he remembered the electricity bill and gave up on that. It was late at night, it was better for him to just get ready to sleep. 

**

When Roger left the bathroom, John was waiting for him in his bedroom. Sitting on the chair they kept on the corner of the room. 

“Oh Deacy. I was going to ask you to come here… let me get the money I made today, my share on the rent and stuff like that, you know?” Roger walked to the wardrobe and took the money out of the drawer, letting the envelope from the letter fall, but then he quickly picked it up, tucking it back at the bottom of the drawer, before the younger man could start asking questions. 

“Here it is… It’s not much, this week was pretty slow, but I hope it’s enough.”

“Oh yeah, about that… you know the rent is not due for another three weeks, right?? We paid in advance last month, got us a few more days…” John replied.

“Yeah, it’s just that I don’t want to waste it away, you know? Better give it to you now before I drink the money...”

“If you say so… But really, you shouldn’t worry… Nor Brian nor Freddie had paid their share yet, and they’re always the first.” John accepted the money, putting it into his wallet. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure…” the blond replied, shrinking his shoulders in tension, disguising it crossing his arms. 

“I know you’ve been avoiding us, and that you never really talk about what happens home, but you know you can trust us, right?” The young man talks with honesty, he really wants Roger to understand that he has friends that get him, that are there for him no matter what. John waited until Roger to set out any good reaction and then moved to the door, intending to leave.

“Thanks Deacy, I know…” Roger said, sighing deeply. 

“Well, I don’t know exactly why I’m gonna say this, and you can ignore it later, it’s alright….” He paused at the doorway and turned back inside. “When my dad passed away I felt a little bit relieved, just a tiny little bit. Of course I was sad, I loved my dad very much, he was my childhood hero, but I was relieved that I wouldn’t see more fights at home… My parent’s marriage was not the fairytale that it seems to be.” Deacon took a deep breath, questioning himself if that sudden confession was useful for the blond. “Anyway… my point, if there’s a final point so to say, is that what happens there is not your fault, never was, never will be. You’re doing your best here, we all are, that is all.”

When John finished his little speech, Roger had tears in his eyes, but none of them made a move for a while. 

John wanted to go to the other man and give him a warm hug, but it didn’t seem like it was the right time. The hug would have to wait a little longer to happen. Roger dried his eyes with the back of his hand, trying real hard not to give in to his feelings, and thanked his friend, not understanding why John told him those things, but grateful for that anyways.

After John left the bedroom, Roger turned off the lights and went to bed, leaving enough space for Brian when he arrived. 

**

_Roger was woken up by his sister._

_“Rog… Roggie, wake up! I had an idea…”_

_He got up and without hesitation followed his sister to the kitchen._

_“Come, help me out here, we’re gonna make mommy a chocolate…” she said, standing up on the chair, asking him to get the pot of powder cocoa she couldn’t reach._

_“Clare, no… it’s dangerous.” The boy cried, convinced that what they were doing was wrong. Their parents were asleep on the first floor, and soon they’d be waking up to go to church._

_“But it’s mom’s birthday!” She argued, wanting to make a surprise for their loving mother. “She likes chocolate… Help me out, please?”_

_“Get down and get the milk in the fridge, I’ll do it.” He said, getting the cocoa powder and his mom’s favorite mug._

_However, when it was done his sister dropped the box of milk on the floor, making a huge mess and a noise that would surely wake up their parents._

_Worried about his sister, Roger sent her back to their bedroom and told her to hide under the bed._

_When the boy had a mop and a bucket in hands and was ready to clean the kitchen floor, his father arrived at the place, and no matter how much his mother asked the man to have patience and mercy on the boy, nothing made him escape being beaten until his back and legs were sore and scratched by his father’s belt, with some bleeding points that would take more than a day or two to heal._

_Wasting food was a big problem in their house, and he had to be disciplined for making such a big mistake. Even if he didn’t make anything wrong._

_After his father punished him and his mother’s birthday was officially ruined, because there would be no milk to prepare a birthday cake later, he was sent to his room as part of his punishment, and the rest of the family got ready to go to church, leaving him alone._

Middle of the night, there was a thunderstorm outside, Brian was sound asleep with Roger on top of him until the blond’s shaky breath woke him up. It was clear Roger was having a nightmare, he was crying and shaking and babbling random things that Brian’s sleepy mind didn’t understand very well at first. 

Brian instinctively kissed the blond’s head, and held him tighter, whispering small reassurances that replied to Roger’s babbles.

“You did nothing wrong, angel, I’m not mad at you… I love you so much…” 

Then Brian paid more attention to what Roger was saying, and it seemed like in the drummer’s mind, he was being beat up by his father. Brian knew about that part of Roger’s past, but this was the first time he saw firsthand how that affected the young man, even after all these years. “He can hurt you anymore, love. I won’t let this happen…” 

Roger woke up for a few seconds, but these words seemed to calm him down a little bit, slowly the heavy breathing turned into soft snores. Brian couldn’t sleep for another hour or two, until he was sure that the blond was safe and sound physically and emotionally, at least for the night.

In the morning, still numb by the sound of the rain outside, the couple woke up enveloped to each other, but this time Roger’s eyes were a lot more distant, Brian could see the key turning as his boyfriend woke up.

Roger remembered the nightmare and Brian’s sweet voice, he didn’t believe him though, he woke up seriously convinced that his boyfriend was angry at him, just like his father in the bad dream. He jumped out of bed and rushed to the bedroom, trying not to startle any bad reaction from Brian. 

The guitarist also jumped out of their bed, to go after his boyfriend, but Roger locked him out of the bathroom as fast as he could.

“Roger? Are you feeling sick? Love, talk to me…” 

Inside the bathroom, Roger opened the sink and washed his face, crying as much as he possibly could in the process so he’d have the “soap in the eye” excuse when he was ready to leave. Then he used the bathroom, leaving it as clean as he could when he was done, then he was out. Brian was waiting for him outside, his arms crossed over his chest, looking a lot more angrier now than before they left the bed. 

Brian wasn’t angry, he couldn’t be, he was indeed worried, with each passing day he was struggling to find a way to help Roger without scaring him away. Brian couldn’t even think about losing his love to whatever monster was living inside the drummer’s mind.

“I’m sorry…” Roger says as he makes his way back to the bedroom.

“For what? You didn’t do anything wrong, love…” Brian said, getting Roger by the wrist, making the young man flinch at the sudden movement. Brian got closer to his boyfriend and hug him, slowly and softly, not to scare him any more. 

Roger wanted to accept the love Brian was offering him, but his mind kept telling him how inappropriate it was to be so _needy,_ making him slip out of that tall man’s embrace before it felt comfortable.

“I’m gonna make you some coffee…” he said, keeping his voice low as if he was telling a secret.

“I’ll make the bed, then I’ll meet you…” Brian said, first getting into the bathroom to clean up a little and fix his hair.

**

The strong scent of coffee was not enough to wake John and Freddie, but they went to bed late, so Roger decided to let them sleep, making enough coffee just for him Brian, accidentally making it too strong. 

He didn’t want to eat. Actually, he felt like he didn’t deserve to eat after what happened in his dream, especially now he ruined a good portion of coffee and his lover would be mad at him for that. 

When Brian arrived at the kitchen Roger won a fresh kiss and Brian won an apology. The second one of the day.

“I ruined the coffee, I can make you tea, if you like… I’m really sorry!” The blond man asked, almost like a servant in the Victorian era. 

“It’s not ruined, love. It’s just strong…” Brian said after getting a sip of the coffee, trying his hardest not to make a revealing disgusting face. 

Roger also tried to drink all the coffee without making a face, but in this case it was because he deserved nothing better than that for being so clumsy. He was an adult after all, preparing a decent coffee was the least expected from him.

“I still can make you cereal, if you want…” he offered. 

“What about you, love? You can’t only drink coffee…” Brian asked, observing Roger finish his mug of the cursed coffee.

“I’m not hungry…” The blond replied.

“Take a few biscuits at least, come have some time with me…” Brian said, pulling Roger’s hand until the blond was in front of him. “Sit down here, love… Please?” he asked, gently. Making space for Roger to sit on his lap and wrap himself on his torso, hiding his face on the crook of Brian’s neck like a scared child. Brian held him firmly while the blond gave him kisses on his neck, planting them so delicately they felt like cotton touches. Roger seemed to come at ease while kissing his lover and playing with his hair, hiding from everything that was wrong with the world on the safety of his man’s arms. 

“Ew, not what I wanted to see for breakfast.” John said, entering the kitchen and seeing Roger on Brian’s lap, making the blond man jump and tense up.

“Fuck, Deacy!! Give us a break, will you?” Brian said, angry at John for breaking their soft bubble. 

“It’s alright, love. We have to get ready for rehearsal anyway…” Roger said, kissing his boyfriend timidly before leaving his lap. 

“Rog is right, we don’t have much time before we need to leave. We’ll take the auditorium right before lunchtime, lovies…” Freddie announced while John prepared them both some tea.

Roger and Brian left for their bedroom to change their clothes, while the other couple took their breakfast. 

Soon it was time to leave. Freddie rushed them out of their flat and they reached the van, packing their instruments carefully so nothing would be damaged or scratched. Roger handed Brian the keys and sat on the passenger seat, leaving the free back seat to John and Freddie. 

**

Rehearsals were never easy, all of them had strong opinions on how their songs should be played, and focus was hard to get among all the bickering. 

Roger was feeling off. Usually he would make the drum kit and the sticks part of his body, he would let the beats flow through him like an electric signal… But it wasn’t happening. 

He was letting his bandmates down with every silly mistake, every time he came out late on the melody he would get a disapproving look from one of them, making his playing a lot more difficult. 

Half an hour in, Freddie asked for the first break… 

“Blondie, I need you to focus. We can’t get stuck in Stone Cold Crazy all day.” He complained. 

Brian wanted to ask Freddie to cut Roger a slack ‘cause they had a difficult night, but he was also getting annoyed, only a little, but still…

“Sorry, I’m gonna do better…” Roger said, not protesting or saying any other thing, just accepting he was the problem. 

“We can try Now I’m Here, see if it works better…” John suggested, and the other three agreed. 

Roger took a deep drag on his cigarette, keeping it tight in his lips when he started playing. This time there was a connection, he was more into the song, so much so he was going a little bit carelessly, hurting the sides of both his hands while trying not to break drumsticks, ‘cause those are expensive. They did the entire song in one go, no pauses this time, and all of them seemed satisfied now that things were working. 

Roger’s hands became instantly sore right after rehearsals ended, but he didn’t complain, it helped him play better. 

“Do you need help with that, love?” Brian said when he saw Roger wincing with pain.

“No, it’s all done, thank you.” Roger said, taking the last part of his kit back to the van.

“Who wants some pints before we go back home?” Freddie suggested. “We can stop for a few…”

“I’m in!!” John said, enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I think it’s a good idea…” Brian said. “Don’t you think, love?” he asked Roger, who seemed to have spaced out behind the van.

“What?? I didn’t hear you…Sorry.” 

“Pints. Shots. We deserve them…” Freddie said loud and clear. 

“You’re coming with us, right?” This time John looked at Roger with an inquisitive look. 

“Yeah… I don’t have much money on me, but I can do a pint or two…” Roger said, sounding a little upset, for no particular reason, being with his boyfriend could be fun, and could take part of the weight off his shoulders.

“It will be fun, I take care of you…” Brian whispered in Roger’s ear, relaxing him a little. 

The pub wasn’t crowded,it was Monday and only a few workers were there enjoying their time off work. The men found themselves a boot at the back of the place, far from the eyes of everyone, where they could chat. Freddie paid for the first round, delivering a pint for each one of them.

“Here’s for the concert, darlings!” He raised his glass. “Cheers!”

“Cheers!” The other three repeated. 

**

Time flew by, and suddenly the first round became the sixth, a little bit of a extravaganza, a luxury that they allowed themselves to have, and it wasn’t strange. 

What certainly was weird was the fact that, while his mates seemed to enjoy the night, making plans and dreaming big, Roger sipped his second pint slowly, observing their joy from a different headspace, from far away. He was there, but at the same time he wasn’t really there. How could he allow himself to have fun when he had just lost his father and no one knew? Why was he suffering for someone that caused him so much pain? Nothing seemed fair. 

He could call Brian, ask for a little attention, something that would stop him from feeling misplaced, but Brian has done so much already, it wasn’t right to disturb his moment of peace with his silliness. 

He could just tell them he was tired and go home. But then who would drive them home safely? It was his time to pay for all the times they had to deal with a drunk Roger Taylor going back home late at night.

He finished his beer quietly, nodding and smiling when it was necessary, refusing other drinks, ‘cause he had to be responsible, until they called it a night. 

Freddie and John stumbled their way out of the pub, followed by Brian, who was being carefully cared for by Roger while the tall man slurred love confessions and promises for when they got rich and famous. 

“I’m gonna make you so happy and proud someday, we’re gonna play Wembley!! Nothing’s going to stop us!” Brian whispered in his ear as they approached the van parked at an isolated area. 

“I know, love, that’s great…” He said, wanting to believe those words. Roger kept his boyfriend steady, patiently opening the vehicle to his friends on the back seat, while he and Brian took the front seats and got ready to leave. 

Freddie and John made out all the way back home, freely sharing kisses and touches without worrying if anyone could see them, because they knew their friends approved their love. 

Brian had lust in his eyes, he looked at Roger as he could undress the blond man then and there, keeping his distance while the blond was driving. “I know what you’re thinking, love… Hold it in your pants list a little bit more, okay?” Roger pleaded.

Inside the warmth of their flat, Roger rushed John and Freddie to their room and helped Brian with his shoes and coat, leaving with the man for the bathroom. 

“Yeah, now you take care of yourself, right. I’ll be right behind you…” Roger said, waiting for the drunk man to use the bathroom.

“I demand kisses…” Brian said, playfully.

“Only if you’re a good boy…” 

**

Inside their bedroom, cleaned and changed, the men went to their bed, Brian was a little bit sober now, but he still had the same lust filled look in his eyes.

“Sleep!” Roger said. 

“Kisses first…” Brian said, taking the drummer into his arms. 

“All you want… but that’s all, okay?” Roger said into his boyfriend’s ear.

Roger kissed his boyfriend, letting the other man wrap himself around him and laying down on the bed until Brian was on top of him, carefully adjusting their positions until arousals met, growing slowly in the little space between their bodies.

“I love you Rog…” Brian gasped. 

It didn’t need much for them to get their climax, the alcohol consumed earlier wore them out fast, Brian came first, falling on top of Roger, sweating and trembling with aftershocks, while the blond moaned his name between sloppy kisses and love bites. 

Then Brian fell asleep, leaving to Roger the responsibility to care for them both, covering them and trying to get some sleep himself. 

It was not going to be an easy night, Roger was afraid of another nightmare, of something that would scare Brian away from him. His mind kept wandering around on what to say, how to act next. What would happen when it was time to face his mother. Stuff like that, paralyzing thoughts that lead him nowhere, but that also couldn’t seem to leave him alone. 

After what seemed like hours, he was able to fall asleep, but his mind couldn’t rest as it should, letting another memory come in the way as a dream. 

_“Daddy is gonna take you to work with him, isn’t that fun?” his mom announces, fixing his little bowtie and his big boy outfit._

_“Come here, lad. You don’t wanna be late on your first day, do you?” His father says, rushing him to get into the car._

_The little boy seats on the backseat and buckles his seatbelt, just like he was thought to, then he observes his father get into the car, humming an old song. Seeing his father look so relaxed and happy was rare, Roger wished things were like that more often._

_“Is that your big boy?” One of his father’s co-workers says when they get into the building._

_“Yeah, that’s my boy Roger.” Roger’s father says, patting the boy’s head. “Brought him today to give Winnie a day-off with the little girl..” his father had a content smile and a proud look on his face, Roger felt connected to his old man, daring to forget the bad days they had at home._

_The little boy sits beside his father on his desk, observing a family portrait from when Roger was a baby and another one from months ago when his sister was born. The old man gives him pen and paper to draw to pass the time and asks him to be quiet while his father checks on hundreds of important files in front of him._

_At lunch time his father gets him a ham sandwich, a chocolate bar and a box of juice from the lunchbox his mom prepared and they share the lunch quietly. Then his father goes back to work and he goes back to the drawing he’s doing of his family._

_“Very polite this boy of yours, Michael. And a cute little man as well.” says another of his father’s co-workers, a brunette woman with a beautiful red coat. She gets close, takes some files from his dad’s desk and then pinches the boy’s cheeks, making the old man laugh at his son’s reaction._

_“We should buy one of those for mommy…” the boy murmurs when the woman leaves the room, very close to his father so only he could hear._

_“One day we will, boy… One day…” His father sighed, turning his focus back to all the work in front of him._

_At one his father is called by a chubby man with an angry face, asks him to stay quiet and goes with the chubby man to another room._

_When his dad comes back there’s a disappointed expression on his face. Angrily, the man starts putting his stuff in a box, all the personal things he kept in his desk like the family pictures and the little crocheted rose his wife made for him, it all gets cleaned up in minutes. Then the man puts the boy’s little lunchbox inside the cardboard box, takes the boy by the hand and they hurry up outside, leaving the building to never come back._

_Feeling defeated, the man drives around town for a while with the boy in the backseat, not wanting to face his wife and tell her the bad news._

_They end up inside an old bar, surrounded by other men with the same defeated look on their faces._

_Roger knows that smell, it smells like trouble… He is seated beside his father on a table, his father brings him candy and gets himself a pint._

_And suddenly Roger knew their good day had ended. He knows things won’t end up well._

Roger wakes up with a strong and sudden need to cry, he can still feel the memory he just relieved, he feels sore inside and out, he hates these vivid memories. He looks at Brian, who is still in deep sleep, and, trying not to wake up his boyfriend, leaves the bed. 

Then he walks quietly to the wardrobe and opens the drawer, gets the envelope with his name on it, and leaves the room. 

In the living room, he turns the lampshade on, seats on his favorite spot on the couch, and opens the envelope. Then he leaves the money at the coffee table, realizing he never counted it, he doesn’t know how much his mom sent him, and it doesn’t matter. Again, Roger opens the letter and starts re-reading it, this time with no expectation of good news, no hope for something that would soothe his soul. 

He lost his father and the love of his mother, all at the same time. There was nothing left of a sense of family he used to have. His mother was disappointed at him, and probably his sister was as well. 

Roger never wished bad for his father. Even with all the disagreement and hatred among them, he never disrespected the man that raised him. The only reason he stepped back on having his father’s presence in his life was because he couldn’t keep being disrespected and beaten up like a punch bag for each and every reason, he was a man now, not a scared little boy. 

But here he was, officially fatherless, looking exactly like the scared little boy he didn’t want to be. 

His mother was right, Roger is weak. Any other person would have come back home to give his mother some moral support, but he couldn’t even think about facing her at this moment. 

He was pathetic. How dare he feel bad when he was the one who left, not talking with his father for years? How dare he suffer when his mother was the one in real pain? How? How dare he suffer the loss of someone who hurt him so much?

Roger wanted to scream in pain, his chest felt tight and with no air in his lungs as he sobbed furiously for the first time since getting the news. 

He couldn’t control himself anymore, not carrying if the other people could hear him, he just left it out of his system. It took him like all those times his father laid hands on him. He cried until it got physical, painful, making him nauseous and dizzy. 

Roger ran to the bathroom and kneeled in front of the toilet seat, throwing up violently.

**

Brian woke up to the sound of someone getting sick, he moved around the bed, still half-asleep and didn’t find Roger, and that made him jump out of the bed, stumbling his way to the bathroom. 

He found the door half open and Roger heaving out the contents of his stomach. The blond looked miserable, crouched on the floor, visibly in emotional and physical pain. 

“Oh, Roggie…” he said, taking pity on his lover’s situation, crouching down behind him to help, holding the man’s hair and rubbing his back carefully. “Let it all out, love. It’s alright. It’s all alright.”

Brian’s presence seemed to have a positive effect, after a few minutes, Roger stopped vomiting and leaned back on Brian’s torso, still crying. “Ssh… I’m here, it’s alright…” Brian whispered. 

After what seemed like an eternity with only the sound of Roger’s cry, the older man dared to make a move. 

“We’re going back to bed, okay?” Brian said, moving around a little, to lift them both giving Roger all the physical support he would need. Roger didn’t oppose, he just clinged to his boyfriend’s arms like his life depended on it, and maybe this time it did. Weak, the younger man was brought back to bed by a worried Brian. “I’m gonna make you some tea. I will bring it here so you don’t need to get up, okay?” Brian whispered, helping Roger to sit on the bed and rest his back on the headboard. 

“Don’t leave… Don’t, I can’t lose you…” Roger cried. 

“Oh, okay… You'll not lose me, angel. I'm right here.” Brian sat back on the bed “I’m not going anywhere.”

Brian moved Roger’s fragile almost unresponsive body, until the blond was resting on his torso. “You will never lose me, do you hear me? Never!” He affirmed. Roger rested his head on the taller man’s chest, letting the rhythm of Brian’s heart calm him down. 

“You’re all I have now… Thank you for staying with me…” Roger said, weakly falling asleep in Brian’s arms. 

The guitarist couldn’t sleep anymore, all the time worried that Roger would have another episode, but luckily this time he seemed to be able to rest his exhausted mind.

**

Freddie woke up in a sudden shock, he got to be at the stall today, at least for a few hours if he wanted to make some money, but when he looked at the clock at the bedside table, it showed it was almost eleven in the morning already. 

Then he looked at John, who slept peacefully beside him, hugging a pillow like it was a teddy. 

_Fuck the stall._ He said, getting up to use the bathroom, decided that he deserved a day in. 

Outside, the cool breeze got his skin, giving him chills. 

The bathroom was a mess, some one had gotten sick and probably didn’t have the time to clean it up. While he cleaned it, he tried to remember if it could have been John, but the young man would have called him or made it noticed that he was not okay. 

Brian was the next suspect, so after he used the bathroom and freshened up a little he paid the other couple a visit. 

What he found was a beautiful scene. Brian was sitting on the bed, with Roger carefully wrapped around him. Roger was sound asleep, Brian seemed to be in a different world, not awake, but also not completely out, just looking at the void.

“Darling, do you feel alright?”

Brian shook out a bit, loosening up the grip on Roger’s body.

“Freddie, oh.. yeah.. I’m alright.”

“Liar, you don’t seem like it. Was it you that got sick this night?? I can make you a tea…”

“Oh, that… didn’t have much time to clean that up. It wasn’t me. It was this lad right here…” he said, caressing Roger’s head on his chest.

“Rough night?? But he didn’t even drink that much last night! He drove us home…” Freddie questioned.

“I wish it was a simple hangover, Fred… He’s still quite off…” 

“Poor blondie… I’m gonna make you some tea, you deserve it as well, we can take care of Roger when he wakes up.” Freddie promised, quickly and quietly leaving the room. 

Freddie made both of them some tea and delivered it to Brian on a plate with some crackers, the man seemed a little too pale and too tired for his liking.

Then he took his own mug and took it to the living room, to enjoy some of the light there before starting the day for real. They would have some hours on the study at night, meaning he had to list the songs he wanted to work on. But to have that, he’d have to wait for the others to wake up, especially, Roger.

He sat on the couch, looking at the little huddle of papers and money bills on the coffee table, rested his mug on a little free space, and got the money. _Are we rich?_ Freddie said, counting it and then putting it back on the table, safe for its original owner to find. 

Later, he took a paper that was thrown on the table and saw Roger’s name on it. _I’m not invading his privacy, am I?_ He wondered, with the tear-stained paper in his hand. 

Each one of them had their moments, no life was perfect, which is normal. But Freddie had been a friend of Roger for enough time to know more, to know he had it harder than the others, especially when it came to family matters.

_Sorry, Rog. You need help, and I won’t sit and wait for you to ask for it…_ Freddie opened the folded paper and started reading, doing it slowly, capturing the bitterness of the words. The singer cried when he started to understand what was going on inside his friend’s mind. Roger’s mother had no right being so mean to the young man, even if she was grieving. The money on the table, it belonged to Roger, but still, Freddie understood Roger’s worries about money all week. 

With tears in his eyes, Freddie went back to Brian and Roger’s room. 

“Brimi…” He whispered. Brian was sleeping now, his tea and the crackers were on the plate, unfinished. He too had tears in his eyes, Roger had his face buried on the crook of Brian’s neck now, they looked like one giant mess of limbs, Freddie wished he had the polaroid in hands. 

“What? Did you… what happened??” The curly haired man said, slowly waking up, slightly confused. Brian took a deep breath when he saw that Freddie was beside him, but the relief ran out fast when he saw the singer crying. 

“Honey, we should wake Roger, we need to talk about this…” the singer said, showing Brian the paper, giving it to him. 

“Is it his mom’s letter?” The curly asked, Freddie just nodded. “I’ll see you outside…”

**

Roger woke up around mid afternoon, groping the sheets in search of Brian, but his boyfriend had left the bed hours earlier. His head felt terrible, and it felt worse when he remembered what happened over the night. A sense of shame flooded his mind with disapproving thoughts, but he tried not to give them so much power. 

He looked at the clock in the bedside table, wondering if his flatmates would mind if he just stayed in bed the rest of the day. But they’d have studio time soon, and it was a rare accuracy, something he really shouldn’t miss, even if he was just the drummer. 

He also needed a shower, all the sweat and the scent of sickness stuck to his skin making him feel disgusting. With all his strength, that was not on its top, he left the bed, trying to be as silent as possible not to disturb the chit-chat murmurs that seem to come from the kitchen. 

_They are arguing about that song again…_ Roger thought, in the darkness of his room.

Carefully not to be noticed, Roger left the room and went to the bathroom. As soon as he got in and locked the door, the chatting stopped, but he paid that no mind.

He followed his ritual, turned the shower to cold water to save electricity, took his clothes off and left them behind the door, turned the shower on, taking a few deep breaths before getting in completely, feeling the freezing water hurt his skin. It felt too much like a punishment, one of those he used to get for not getting good grades or breaking something around the house while playing with his sister. 

He wanted to cry, to allow the hot tears to flow and mix with the cold water, but it didn't seem right. His father never allowed him to cry when he was being punished, said if he was strong enough to break something, he would have to face the consequences like a man. He was a man now, wasn't he? 

But why was he punishing himself this time? Why did he need to? Why did he feel like he needed a reason to cry other than losing his family? Wasn’t that suffering enough? 

Questions that would remain unanswered. While they tortured him, he tried to be fast in the shower, going a little harder on the skin with the bath sponge, making it sore.

Wincing a little bit because of the soreness, he finished his shower and prepared to leave.

When he came back to the room the bed was made and the curtains were closed. _Bri was here._

He dressed up, putting on a shirt with long sleeves and jeans, cause he wanted to be ready whenever his bandmates wanted to leave and braved his way to the kitchen.

**

“Roggie!” Brian called, not from the kitchen, but from the living room. “Can you come here for a minute?”

“I’m gonna eat something, real quick, then I’ll meet you. Roger obviously observed the three men in the living room, taking some time to realize that Brian and John didn’t have their instruments with them, they were probably still in the van. That wasn’t a band reunion he was being called for. 

Roger lingered in the kitchen, walking around like he had forgotten where the things were stored, cleaning dishes that were already clean, avoiding coming out of the kitchen as much as he could, for as long as possible, until it felt dishonest with his friends, so after what seemed like forever, and not long enough, he made his way to the living room, holding his mug of lukewarm tea like his life depended of it. 

“Hey…” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Roggie…” Brian stood up to bring him close, John moved to the armchair, leaving space for Freddie, Roger and Brian on the couch. Roger walked to Brian, giving him a good morning peck, even though it was late in the afternoon already, then he sat at his favorite spot on the couch, in the middle, having Freddie on one side and Brian on the other. 

Roger felt himself getting trapped, like all of that was part of an ambush, and he was the prey. But he knew he had to stop lying, stop pretending nothing was wrong, and he knew his friends and his lover would at least try to understand him. It didn’t stop him from feeling utterly ashamed for causing all that confusion.

His mother’s letter was on the coffee table right in front of him, open. The money was carefully placed under the envelope. The secret was out… either he liked it or not. 

“Love, I’m so, so sorry for your loss…” Brian said, sliding his arm behind Roger’s lower back, bringing him closer. 

“It’s nothing, really…” Roger said, trying to belittle his own pain, to look stronger at his friend’s eyes. “We didn’t have a good relationship anyway…”

“It doesn’t matter, Rog. It’s okay to mourn the loss of someone, even if you and him weren’t best friends. He’s still your father, and your family will miss him one way or another…” Freddie reasoned. 

“Your mom will miss him, yeah, for some reasons you’ll never understand, she loved him, with all the good and bad things, that was her husband.” John said, using a little of his own experience to bring some clarity to the situation. “But it won’t hurt like this forever. She’ll have her time, and you’ll have yours, and one day she’ll understand your ways and she’ll be ready to welcome you back home like she used to…”

“This, and without all the tension between you and Michael. He won’t be around anymore to disapprove each of your steps…” Brian said, giving Roger a kiss on the top of his head. 

“He can’t hurt you anymore, past is finally where it belongs, y’know, darling…” 

“And it’s okay to be relieved. Pain and relief are all valid feelings, they can walk side by side, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of…” John said loud and clear, understanding why he had said those words to Roger the next day, and connecting strongly to the blond’s feelings. 

“And most importantly, you were never a burden. You are a very important part of my life, the most important, my life without you would be awfully meaningless. And Queen wouldn't be the powerforce it is without our super talented drummer, that's also the hottest man on Earth… I love you, Rog, we all do!” Brian said, wiping the tears from his boyfriend's face so carefully, it felt like a touch of feathers. 

“We take care of each other, we are family, that's how things work… No one is asking you to work triple days at the stall or enjoy less of the things you like because that's nonsense. At the end of the day each one of us always has things figured out, from the bills to the club nights, and that's all.” Freddie holds his friend's hand, all of them take a deep breath to release the tension that is dissipating out of their way, and Freddie continues. “We are going to be big, so big people will beg us to play stadiums all over the world, but each step at a time, humble beginnings… Until there, don't stress over anything that also includes the three of us, we can't watch you break like this again…”

The four men sat in silence for a moment, then John asked for a little bit of space so he could squeeze himself with them on the couch, sitting between Freddie and Roger. They waited until Roger looked okay again, Brian kissed his temple, seeing life slowly come back to his eyes.

Until Roger looked at the clock on the wall…

“We shouldn't let the studio hours go to waste, I just had an idea for a fight song, and you all are going to help me…” Roger says, energetically getting up from the couch, ready to go bang his sorrows away on his drum kit. 

“Glad to have you back, love…” Brian said smiling, pulling him for a passionate kiss, full of desire, one Roger has been wanting for a long while...


End file.
